Not Home For Dinner

not flailing or sinking
but sunk in fact
the gritty taste and glassy substance
of sand already found its way into the
crevasse between molars and gums
underneath the tongue
salty and chipping away.

we all were driftwood
searching for a beach to land
and at least be buried.

some shore, somewhere
smoothed glass lays among the trillions
of specks being home and gently rubbing
until the top of the once broken bottle remains
lovely after submission

I can see, I am not blind.

your patchwork tongue
can keep you on dry land forever,
but it will never be home.

Institutions.

Alright, Sammy said.
Give her the diamond
with the moon inside.
Whatever she wants,
he says,
pulling his credit line,
losing his laughter lines.

But Doris,
she is never pleased.
She doesn't just want the moon
but the stars inside
And the gold leaf forks and knives
with matching napkin rings
she wants it all.

Sammy sighs,
he knows to give in
is better
than being alone.
If he was,
he'd probably eat with
silver
and know no such thing as love.

Cricket

these knuckles turned white as
ocean caps grabbing your locks
in both scenarios.

flat and precise as a dartboard
aiming for the bullseye.
bullseye, you can always call.

wheat grain hair falls in
your face, i can't brush it away
without fingers

I know you sleep in duck
feathers, and deeply
never thinking of me.

It's half past eight
still awake and wondering
why my knuckles are so white.

"Romance isn't dead, it exists elsewhere"

amnesiacs claim their love runs deep
by the smell of your hair
toil the city
graffiti the stairs
write: love can not live here
when it's alive over there

I Was Sure I Was Alone.

No one can see you, but i have felt those fingertips
I can just feel it.
You are shorter than I remember,
But you still come up behind me,
I am always surprised:

Remember the day, in the city
I started to cry when they took my bag
You had a twitch,
You never could handle it
I bruised my knees.

No one hears you, But i have heard those footsteps
You clang and clack
It gets louder every time,
You slapped me in the face.
Do You Remember-Of course you do.

I remember the first day I saw you.

I started to cry when I didn't know your name.

I started to cry when I couldn't forget it.

It sounded too medical.

I bruised my knees.

The Tents

All sleeping on the block closing
in the crooked eyes of men
into the seperate cells.

Violent, cowardly kind,
the michievious boys,
the mis-led boys.

Thick be they their brave scars
tattoos that praise mother
luminous hearts with thorns.

Violent wardens bold desks
reigning their night sticks
their useless hammer.

Thick be they yet useless glass
The crooked, sullen block
Waiting for sullen lights out.

Great Divides

I spy another don't drink and drive sign
Thinking if our mothers were here
They be getting high too
And sniffing glue on this block
Just like you.

The Sands

Time slipping through the sands
So Leap.
Leap and I will find you,
Wrap you up like you needed
But couldn't when I tried to.
Bled myself in trying to bind you.
Ah, A short rope, each grain
Making thinner the knot.

None Of Us Spared

Walking by firefighters
Trying to save the dove
Stuck in the branches.
A small girl twirling ballet
As graceful as the cat purring,
Licking whiskers waiting for dinner.

Punch-Drunk

Hitting wood like the anchor hits the sand
blood crashed against the coast

We Had Big Ideas.

Find the pearl in the clam shell
A woman more valuable than language
making water of out sand
and grains into man
Is forgotten like the child's
scribblings on,
discovering loss of time
as if it meant anything at all.

Dreams

Shaking, long hair freed
Curling against a humid sun.
These words,
Hope to reinvent the world
Most, A smudge in the eyes Least.
Dreaming of being the paint
That marks,
And marks the earth.
Brave even to end in a textbook,
Courageous even to be words that
A little girl may see.
May it open her eyes, Whether
Blue or Brown,
Let her imagine she is anything meaningful.

Veterans

The one armed man
Still rides his motorcycle.
His shirtsleeve waves freely.
You may be afraid
But he has held his best friend
And dreamed of remembering fear.

Steps

A million miles on this water,
Steps made out of glass,
Searching, for a single stone,
A place to call home.

Days spent thrashing,
Waves crashed up shore,
A shore that I have never seen
But am always looking for.

Liar Haiku

Half past the moon and
My dichotomy only
Lets me see so far.

Spoonfeeding Affection

I wish I could hold his naive hands,
Without thinking of ways to break them.

This Says A Lot About Us.

Dim light on the shoreline.
The watchtower shines its beacon warns the sea of it's presence. Ships are ignorant like flies, land on rocks if not guided slowly. The light shines briefly on me, and lights his face while he sleeps. he doesnt notice this; hits rocks in his dreams.

Deaf Ears, Fallen On

They say I do it to punish myself.

I know better.

I know what it's for.

Not some cliche.

I do it to reward myself.

I do it 'cause nobody else will.

I do it to know I'm fucking here.

I do it wrong.

Thoughts On The Moth

For Stephanie

I recall when I let
My eyes flutter shut,
Dear Lord,
Protect me from butterflies,
Daytime Moths,
Just a facade of color,
Of flowers;
I know their real name.

By that orchid, There lies
God and the Devil
Battling and shrieking
About leftovers,
There are never any once the ground
Can take us home;
Back to the soil,
Back to the deep, dark pebbles
We came from and we become.

I know you're all nervous,
Shielded under awnings of leaves,
The same we use to cover the
Chilled and stiff.
I won't put you in a box,
I'll stuff you in a flower pot
So on your tomb it may read
'No, we don't all go to one place
When we die, It's much nicer than that,
I swear.'